


Equinox

by aceklaviergavin



Series: Akekita Week 2020 [1]
Category: Persona 5
Genre: Adulthood, Akechi Goro Lives, Autumn, Dating, Established Relationship, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Past Child Abuse, Post-Canon, Recovery, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-01
Updated: 2020-11-01
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:21:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27327979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aceklaviergavin/pseuds/aceklaviergavin
Summary: autumn(noun)1. the third season of the year, occurring between summer and winter2. a period of maturity
Relationships: Akechi Goro/Kitagawa Yusuke
Series: Akekita Week 2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1994365
Comments: 21
Kudos: 47
Collections: Akekita Week





	Equinox

**Author's Note:**

> Akekita Week Day 1: Halloween // **Autumn**
> 
> I'm so excited for everything I have planned for this week! I hope you all like it. Thank you so much to [exbeekeeper](https://twitter.com/exbeekeeper) for betaing this for me!

Goro meets Yusuke on the Kichijoji platform. Yusuke stands with his back to the wall, tucked behind a pillar to avoid the evening rush, as students file home from cram school and workers return home to their families. Goro seeks Yusuke out amid the sea of faces.

When their eyes meet, Yusuke’s storm gray eyes brighten. How strange, to be the seeker and not the one left waiting.

“Good evening,” Yusuke says, deep voice rumbling in Goro’s chest like the trains roaring through the tunnels.

“You’re early,” Goro says with a touch of annoyance.

He hates being last, even for something as petty as this.

If Yusuke notices his irritation, he makes no sign of it. “Yes, I thought I could people watch until you arrived.”

The Inokashira line pulls in, and the two men prepare to board. “Did you see anyone interesting?” Goro asks.

“Yes, in fact! There was this young girl with the most curious backpack. I believe it was supposed to be some kind of reptile…”

He continues speaking even as Goro pushes him onto the train. Yusuke reflexively grabs onto a pole, all while describing the maybe-reptile’s misshapen wings. In all honesty, Goro isn’t really paying attention. He’s more focused on the light in Yusuke’s eyes and the warmth of their shoulders crowded together in the cramped train car.

They're pressed close enough, he wonders if anyone would notice him slip his hand into Yusuke’s. His palms tingle just thinking about it, the inside of his gloves growing humid and sticky. He glances down. Yusuke has both hands wrapped around the pole. Goro stows that thought for later and focuses on making sure they don’t miss their stop.

Goro quickly pushes Yusuke off the train at Inokashira. They climb the steps, still shoulder to shoulder as they were on the subway. It’s much better without the threat of other people. Goro shoves his hands into his pockets to keep them from straying.

When they reach Inokashira Park, the landscape burns gold under the cover of twilight. Gilded maple trees sway, leaves rustling in the wind. The sun burns over the horizon, reflected in Inokashira’s still waters.

Yusuke dreams the path with his hands, paved in red and gold. “Is it everything you hoped it would be?” Goro asks.

“Better,” Yusuke hums and sets off down the path.

They trod a slow circle around the park, leaves crunching underfoot. Goro stops to buy ikayaki from a vendor and they eat as they walk. Goro holds the squid like it will bite if it gets too close. He carefully wipes the grease from his face. Goro has never been one for street food. It’s messy, sticking in his fingers and hair, then sits heavy in his stomach. But Yusuke hums happily to himself as he eats, and that’s worth any amount of sauce in Goro’s hair.

“Are you still hungry?” Goro asks when Yusuke finishes.

Yusuke pauses a moment, considering. “No, I believe I’m alright.”

“If you’re sure.”

Yusuke watches the scenery with rapt fascination. His eyes track every ripple in the pond’s surface, every sparrow in flight. While Yusuke watches the world, Goro watches Yusuke.

“It’s been so long since I’ve been here,” Yusuke murmurs, stopping midway across a bridge.

Goro stops beside him, leaning against the railing. A family of ducks paddles through the water, cutting a path through the maple leaves fallen on the pond’s surface.

“Is that so?” Goro hums.

“Yes. I haven’t been here since high school. It’s not exactly close to the university.” Yusuke watches the ducks hop onto the far bank with a smile.

“Then why did you want to come here all of a sudden?” Goro asks curiously.

“It’s been some time since I’ve been, but… this place is special to me.” Yusuke turns the full force of his gaze on Goro. “It was one of the first places I went with Akira after leaving the atelier.”

Goro’s hands tighten around his bag, nails digging into the dark leather. “Oh?” he hisses through clenched teeth.

“I was struggling with my art and learning how to survive without turning into Madarame.” Shadows pool in the hollows beneath Yusuke’s cheekbones. “I thought I might find inspiration here, in this sanctum of nature amidst an urban jungle.”

“How does Akira fit into that?” Goro can’t help but ask, bitterness in every word.

Yusuke doesn’t react, simply looking out over the water. “He helped me see that the world is more complex than Madarame taught me to believe. Evil people can show kindness, monsters can feel love… desire can give birth to hope.”

Goro crosses his arms over his chest, gripping his elbows in a vice. “So I’m your art project? A shadow of Akira to paint in shades of gray?”

He tries to keep his voice light, to straddle the line between playful and irate. He used to be skilled at walking that tightrope. But honesty has corroded the silver from his tongue. As soon as the words leave his mouth, they hang heavy in the air before plummeting to the bottom of the lake.

The corners of Yusuke’s mouth pull sharply down. “Forgive me. That wasn’t my intention.”

Goro angles his body away, avoiding Yusuke’s gaze. Regardless of Yusuke’s intentions, the implicit comparison to Akira sets Goro’s veins alight. He imagines Akira in his place at Yusuke’s side—a savior painted in black and white. Next to him, Goro is little more than a wash of gray.

Yusuke watches Goro with a furrowed brow. “I simply wished to see a familiar place with new eyes and to share that experience with you.” Yusuke grapples for understanding, trying to read the thoughts that Goro leaves unsaid. “Are you… unhappy? Would you prefer somewhere else?”

Goro closes his eyes. Goro doesn’t hate Akira, at least not all the time. But he’s not going to stand here and try to fill the empty space Akira was meant to fill. He wants Yusuke to wants him, not the memory of Akira.

Goro lets out a long-held breath and imagines that jealousy being carried away on the autumn wind. “You haven’t done anything wrong,” he sighs. “I’m just…” Goro gestures vaguely at himself. “I don’t want to talk about Akira right now.”

Yusuke’s eyes widen in recognition as the pieces click together. Jealousy, at least, is something he understands.

“Ah…” He purses his lips thoughtfully. “Would it help if I told you that I talk to him about you when you’re not there?”

In fact, that does help, Goro notes as a pleasant thrill quiets his envy. Goro turns to Yusuke, unfolding his arms and finding Yusuke’s gaze. Goro can’t help the playful smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“I suppose that depends on exactly what you say.”

Yusuke meets Goro’s playfulness with complete sincerity as he captures one of Goro’s hands in his. “I tell him that your hands are lovely. That I wish you discarded your gloves so I could properly capture the curl of your fingers.”

He lays Goro’s hand over his palm like a delicate flower petal in danger of tearing. Goro’s mouth runs dry as Yusuke’s touch burns even through the leather.

“All you have to do is ask,” Goro says, voice cracking.

“Truly?” Yusuke’s eyes light up at the prospect, gray burned gold in the twilight.

How could Goro possibly deny him?

Goro slowly pulls back his hand, then with the care of someone cradling a snowflake in their open palm, peels the leather from his skin. Underneath, his hands are pale and clammy, unmarred. Yusuke stares at his hand as if observing a priceless work of art. Goro can feel Yusuke’s gaze on his tender skin.

Yusuke presses his palm to Goro’s, marvelling at the spread of Goro’s fingers. Yusuke’s calloused thumb brushes over the ridge of Goro’s knuckles, supple skin tingling beneath his touch.

“Marvelous…” Yusuke breathes.

Goro observes Yusuke’s fingers, long and elegant, fingerprints stained red from paint that refused to wash away. “They’re just hands.”

“Hardly.” Yusuke pauses his inspection, tangling their fingers together and letting them fall. “I could study you for hours.”

“You’re making me sound like a test subject,” Goro huffs.

But Yusuke continues. “I would love to paint you, to show you the beauty I see in you, inside and out.”

Goro tears his eyes away. That Yusuke could see beauty in him… absurd. Yusuke’s hand comes up, fingers tenderly caressing the curve of Goro’s jaw. He curls his hand around Goro’s chin and gently guides his face up. Goro lets him and meets Yusuke’s steely gaze with his own wine-red eyes.

“No matter how I mix my paints, I can never match the color of your eyes.”

What can Goro possibly say to that? For so much of his life, he longed to be wanted, to be kept and treasured. Here Yusuke is, having seen all the wicked parts of Goro’s soul and choosing to love him anyway—to see beauty in his ugliness. It’s more than Goro dreamed of.

Goro grips the back of Yusuke’s neck and guides him into a slow kiss. Yusuke presses into his lips eagerly, following Goro’s lead. It’s stilted and awkward in its newness, but Yusuke makes every movement with care. He kisses Goro the same way he paints, passionately and without reservation.

Goro could spend hours drinking down Yusuke’s every breath. He wants to memorize every crevice of Yusuke’s mouth, to shove his tongue down Yusuke’s throat until he tastes bile. Every kiss leaves an everlasting stain on Yusuke’s soul. Goro will slither inside the cage of Yusuke’s ribs and make his home next to Yusuke’s heart, until Yusuke forgets that he ever lived without Goro.

But they’re in public, and Goro wants to keep some treasures all to himself. Yusuke pulls back with a shiver. Goro’s eyes follow the long slope of Yusuke’s neck where a heavy blush crawls down his skin like ivy. His eyes catch on Yusuke’s collarbone, exposed despite the evening chill.

“You should have worn a heavier coat,” Goro huffs, already unwrapping the scarf from around his neck.

“I don’t mind the cold,” Yusuke says.

He makes no move to stop Goro as the thick scarf is looped around his neck. Yusuke’s hand darts up to sink its fingers in the fabric. It’s soft, warm, clearly high quality to keep out the cold. Yusuke suspects it’s far more expensive than anything in his closet. Normally, Yusuke doesn’t like having things around his neck. He prefers v-neck, tops with exposed collarbones that give him room to breathe. But he can make an exception when he ducks his nose into the scarf and smells sandalwood.

Goro leans close as he knots the scarf. His hair falls into his eyes. Yusuke can’t help himself. He reaches up to tuck Goro’s hair back behind his ear. Goro freezes, fingers inadvertently digging into the scarf around Yusuke’s neck.

“Your hair is getting long,” Yusuke notes aloud.

Despite himself, Goro blushes. “So is yours,” he points out.

Goro curls his hand around the nap of Yusuke’s neck, threading his fingers through Yusuke’s hair. “I suppose it is,” Yusuke hums, tugging at the bangs covering his brow. “Do you think I should cut it?”

Yusuke’s hair runs through Goro’s fingers like water. It’s long enough now to tie into a small bun, which Yusuke does as he pores over his canvas. Goro would be lying if he said he didn’t appreciate the peek of Yusuke’s nape above his collar, begging to be marked. Long hair suits him, softness falling over the cut of Yusuke’s jaw.

Goro swallows thickly. “That’s not my decision.” He carefully tugs at his own hair. “Should I cut mine?”

Yusuke appraises him with searching eyes, analyzing Goro the way he would a piece of art. Goro goes rigid, fights against the urge to turn away, to hide. He knows this frail, weakened body of his must fall short compared to the thousands of figures catalogued in Yusuke’s brain. Goro had touched the edge of greatness, once, and had been lucky to crawl away with this pitiful excuse of a life. If he dared to call such a thing lucky. He flew too close to the sun. Just like Icarus he fell, and the crash against the rocks below left him mangled, broken beyond repair.

And still he yearns to be seen.

“It suits you,” Yusuke finally says.

Goro desperately wants to know more. Suits him how? Bedraggled and mangy like the street rat he once was? Long enough to fist in his hands? To rip away from his scalp like weeds from the earth?

Yusuke carefully pushes Goro’s bangs from his eyes. “However, I would like to see more of your eyes.”

Goro has to breathe deep, so overwhelmed by the spotlight of Yusuke’s attention. His heart overflows, this unnamed emotion filling every forgotten corner of Goro’s soul. He’s… happy, and it’s such a foreign feeling that he burns in its wake.

“Where the hell did you learn to be so charming?” Goro rasps.

“Hm?” Yusuke tilts his head in confusion. “I’ve only said the truth.”

And that’s just it, isn’t it? Yusuke says what he thinks—earnest and without reservation. He spares no breath for vapid pity or empty flattery. When Yusuke tells Goro his soul is precious, Goro knows that Yusuke truly believes it. Where so much of Goro is carefully concealed behind a mask, Yusuke spreads his soul on canvas. He displays his heart in a glass case for the world to see. When Yusuke paints, truth lies in every stroke.

To Goro, who’s hanged himself with a noose of empty words, honesty is precious. Goro can rest on Yusuke’s words and trust that he won’t fall. Every word formed by Yusuke’s lips spins a sparkling thread of truth. Goro can weave it around his shoulders to keep the cold at bay.

“I… have something for you,” Yusuke says, hesitant for the first time.

“Oh?”

Slowly, Yusuke reaches into his bag and pulls out… a flower. A blue iris, Goro’s mind helpfully supplies. Yusuke pinches the stem carefully between his fingers. He twirls it, refusing to meet Goro’s eyes.

When he speaks, his voice shakes. “It’s… customary to give flowers to your significant other… is it not?” He’s nervous, Goro realizes as sunset red blooms over Yusuke’s cheeks. “I couldn’t afford a bouquet… I hope this is to your liking.”

Goro can’t take his eyes off the single flower. The stem is bent, some of the petals unnaturally creased, likely from being in Yusuke’s bag. In a daze, Goro reaches for it, carefully taking the flower from Yusuke’s hand. He brings it close, holding it like glass against his chest.

Goro has received flowers before. Most of his admirers opted for less feminine gifts like chocolates, but some had sent him flowers. Big, expensive bouquets would sit on his desk come Valentine’s Day, his shoe cubby overflowing with roses. This one, wilting iris outshines them all.

“Thank you,” Goro says in absence of anything else.

“Are you… familiar with the language of flowers?” Yusuke asks nervously.

Ah, of course the artist would choose his gift carefully. “I’ve read Akira’s book a few times,” Goro admits. He tries to remember what the book said about irises. All he can think of is the Egyptian goddess. “I’m afraid I can’t recall it at the moment, though.”

Yusuke nods as if he’d expected that answer. “The iris has many different meanings depending on color. The white iris is a symbol of purity, purple for royalty and wisdom.” Goro can’t help but smile to himself. “Blue irises traditionally symbolize… hope.” Goro meets Yusuke’s eyes, hooded and distant. “It was hope that carried me through my childhood and everything after, that kept me from falling apart.”

When Goro was a child, hope had been the anchor strung around his neck. Dreams of family and security weighed him down, pinning him to the ocean floor. Every breath filled his lungs with salt as sharks circled him with predatory eyes. He loosed himself from hope because the only other option was to die.

He clawed his way to the surface, uncaring of the child he left behind. Part of himself _did_ die. Part of himself still lay at the bottom of a river of blood, chained to that anchor, hoping for rescue.

“I feel it now when I look at you.” Yusuke cups Goro’s cheek reverently, fingers tangled in Goro’s hair. “My hope is that I can remain at your side for years to come. That I can have the pleasure of growing older with you.”

Goro stares at Yusuke, lips parted in a silent gasp. Yusuke’s eyes are steel hardened by moonlight. He puts his soul to canvas with unwavering passion, bares all his hopes and dreams for strangers to consume. Goro was a fool to think Yusuke wouldn’t grant him the same.

But Goro is so undeserving. How can he possibly carry Yusuke’s dreams on his back when he abandoned his own so long ago? Goro’s never had a single desire that didn’t end in ruin. What chance did they have that this was any different?

“I was never supposed to live this long,” Goro admits, unbidden.

Yusuke’s eyes never waver as he holds Goro’s face in his palm like something worth keeping. “Back then, I thought much the same,” he murmurs, words heavy on his tongue. “I thought I would die, and the only marks I left on the world would be under someone else’s name.” He threads his fingers through Goro’s hair, its length spills onto his palm, evidence of the years that have passed. “Yet we managed to beat the odds. I’d like to beat the odds with you again.”

Goro sees the years ahead playing out before his eyes. The seasons turn, the world moves on and Yusuke wears the years in the lines on his face, the stubble shadowing his chin. So many days like this one, full of love and Yusuke’s hand clasped in his stretch out ahead. Yusuke dares to promise Goro a future.

“I…” Goro gasps, wet and heavy. “I can’t trust something as fickle as hope.” It’s been so long since he dared to.

Yusuke braces his hand on Goro’s shoulder. “I know,” he breathes, so close Goro feels it on his skin. “I’ll have enough hope for us both.”

Goro squeezes his eyes shut, unable to bear the force of Yusuke’s gaze. He ducks his head, resting against Yusuke’s shoulder. Yusuke’s hand curls around the nape of his neck, fingers still tangled in his hair. Yusuke simply holds him there, safe in his embrace. Before, Goro never would have trusted someone to hold him like this. It’s a testament to how far he’s come.

“You’re wasting it on someone like me,” Goro laughs bitterly into the wool of Yusuke’s coat.

Yusuke hums his acknowledgment, and Goro feels it in his chest. “Regardless, that future will be waiting for you.” His grasp on Goro’s shoulder tightens. “I only ask that you be there to see it.”

The iris burns, still cupped gently against Goro’s chest. What a kind world Yusuke must live in, to see hope in something so beautiful. Goro thinks… he would like to share it one day.

“I can’t promise you that…” Goro whispers. “But I… would like to beat the odds with you again.”

Warmth blooms in Yusuke’s heart. He leans his head against Goro’s. When he speaks, his words whisper through Goro’s hair.

“I would never ask for more than you can give.” His breath is warm on Goro’s skin, enough to keep out the autumn chill. “That your wish aligns with mine is more than enough.”

Goro has never been enough for anyone before.

Later, Goro presses that iris between the pages of a heavy textbook. He keeps it safe, framed on his desk. He stares at it, preserved behind a pane of glass. Hope may have failed him, but he can keep Yusuke’s alive.

**Author's Note:**

> you can come talk to me on [tumblr](https://aceklaviergavin.tumblr.com/) or [twitter](https://twitter.com/aceklaviergavin)


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